Yaz had missed work. The moment she woke up and saw the sun in the sky, that much was clear. Then again, it sounded like she'd be missing a lot of work soon.

Carefully, she pushed open the door to their house and found herself copying each detail to her memory, filled with emotion. This had been her home for several years now and she had always been happy and safe there. Sure, it was hard work, especially because she worked two jobs to help her mother afford the house. In addition, she wanted Hadiya's childhood to be just as comfortable as Yazmin's own one had initially been, the child should want for nothing.

Now, it was hard to know how things would turn out for her mother and sister. Hopefully the money her mother earned from her job would be enough once Yaz was taken out if the equation. Maybe her father could be convinced to provide financial support, yet chance had it that plan would go nowhere. The dark haired girl sighed, rubbing her fingers against the bridge of her nose. This chosen one thing had a lot of implications and the negative ones were outweighing the positive ones by far.

She sat at the table and after a few minutes her mother appeared. Her hair was lighter than Yaz's and braided to one side, making it seem a tad shorter than Yaz's. She had been on her way to fetch a piece of material for her headscarf from where it had been drying, but came to a stop when she saw her daughter sat.

"Are you not feeling well? I assume you informed your boss that you were staying home, would you like a cup of tea?", asked Dhuha Ahmed, to which her daughter hastily responded, "That'd be lovely, but... I'm not ill, Mother."

Now came the task of delivering two sets of bad news. Then again, was her being the chosen one really bad news? Some people would have surely been jumping for joy. One thing was for sure though; Arham joining the army was going to break her mother's weary heart.

"Mother, Arham dropped by earlier. Extremely early. He..." - she paused, trying to gather the courage to break the bad news to their mother, - "He's joining the army to fight in the war."

Immediately, Dhuha cracked. She didn't cry, she didn't scream, she didn't fall apart. It was just a crack. But a big one, almost as if a small part of her had fallen away. Even though her sons had chosen to remain with their father all these years, they still had a home in her heart. From time to time they'd see each other and Dhuha savoured each time. But now it seemed Arham would be dropping by no more. "I see."

Seeing her mother like this was torture for Yazmin, especially since she was dealing with similar emotions herself. Her voice now hoarse, the young adult continued, "There's something else, Mother. I had a dream... Unlike any dream I've ever had before..."

"Oh, Yazmin, that's wonderful," she exclaimed with a big smile, though there was still a sadness to all of this thanks to the news of Arham, "What did the ancestors tell you?"

"No, not the ancestors," said Yaz, immediately extinguishing her mother's happiness that had been bubbling like champagne, "It was a mage, Mother. He said... He said... He-"

"You mean... A... A chosen one dream...?", said Dhuha and her daughter nodded, a trace of so many emotions in her attempt at an emotionless face - fear, sadness, excitement, doubt, uncertainty... If only it could have just been a dream from the ancestors, spreading their proverbial wisdom. That would have required a lot less change than this did.

< | ■ | >

Caitlyn awoke in a hospital bed, though thanks to her family's wealth, it was an extremely comfortable hospital bed. Additionally, this more elite hospital only lit the room with natural light which was entering through a pretty rosewood window, rather than blinding her with magical beads of light.

Considering the fact she'd just been poisoned, Caitlyn felt remarkably well. She lifted a hand to buzz for a nurse, not because she needed one - though a glass of something to drink would be nice - but rather intended to announce her awakening. As she lifted her hand, she saw that it was still that same tone of yellow as it had been before she'd lost consciousness. She scowled in distaste. Hopefully it would go away soon. The idea of being saddled with an unnaturally yellow hand for her entire life wasn't exactly appealing.

A nurse entered through a tinted glass door, handsome and young. Part of the perks of an elite hospital was they hired the most knowledgeable and attractive staff.

"Good morning, Miss Sequor. I see you are awake at last. We have already notified the doctors, please expect one to drop by anytime soon. Is there anything else you need, Miss?"

Caitlyn averted her gaze from her hand and rested it upon his pale grey eyes, "Yes. I need to talk to my parents."

< | ■ | >

Anwyn couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this excited. Upon waking up from the lucid dream, she'd fallen back asleep for a while, then awoken as the sun crept in through the curtains. Quickly she stretched in bed, then got out of bed. The creaks of the wooden floor awakened Nokia, he lifted his head and upon seeing his Parvi companion heading out of the room, immediately jumped up and trotted after her.

It was down the stairs and through into a kitchen, a bright room with wooden furniture and currently, thr smell of freshly baked scones.

"Aaaah, Nom, you're amazing," Anwyn said, giving Olivia Haaland a quick hug. She held Olivia in high esteem, even though she was Anwyn's adoptive mother rather than her biological one. The nickname nom had developed from the fact that she wished to call her adoptive parent something special but mom didn't feel right because Anwyn's mother was still alive and breathing. That was not the case with her father, but nevertheless she used the same pattern for Idon Haaland, addressing him with nad.

Anwyn began to search through the kitchen in search of- "No cream, Anwyn. It's only breakfast. Jam and butter should do nicely," Olivia reprimanded her, to which Anwyn forced her face into the most puppy dog expression she could manage, but Olivia wouldn't budge.

That was when the adopted Haaland remembered that she was meant to be informing her parents that she had to leave to go on an epic journey in which she would prevent the forces of evil from ruining the lives of countless people. She was kind of looking forward to the point where she met sidekicks to join her on the remainder of her journey. The typical moment where it seems all is lost and the villain goes "Mwahahaha, evil plan, evil plan, rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb," not so much. That was how this kind of thing went, right? Hopefully she didn't find a sort of mentor character, they always died.

"Nom, we need to talk," Anwyn began, to which Olivia rolled her eyes, "No, Anwyn, I don't care if you're already in your late teens. 19 isn't an adult yet, you still have a year to go. So you're still not getting any cream."

"No, Nom, not that," Anwyn said with a dismissive gesture, then fixing her pretty pale green eyes upon her adoptive mother's own, "Nom... I had a dream... Unlike any dream I've ever had..."

"Last time you said that it was about sentient blankets," Olivia said, subconsciously resting one hand on a hip. Without hesitation, Anwyn defended herself, "Look, that dream changed my worldview!"

"Whatever you say, An."

After a deep breath, Anwyn decided to try again, "Nom, I had a lucid dream and in it, there was this super skinny guy with hair like the sun and he was as awkward as Kilian Westerly and he was really unhelpful and didn't answer my questions, which was a pain because they would have told me loads about him as a person, and he said I was the chosen one."

Olivia just gaped at her initially. Realising this would take a while, Anwyn started buttering her scone, then coated it with jam, before sliding the edge into her mouth. It would've been better with cream. Maybe she'd be offered cream now.

Eventually, Olivia sat down, "You're a... I mean, we always knew there was a slight chance, orphans are more likely to be chosen for whatever weird reason, but you're not quite an orphan and, to be honest, what are the odds."

"I'm sorry, Nom, but I know the dream meant something. And I know I've got to go where it leads," said Anwyn, oozing with determination, though there was a slight trickle of fear too. Couldn't the mage have given her a slight hint of what was ahead?

Sceptically and slightly fearfully, Olivia inquired, "Did the mage say where to go or did he just say to trust your gut?"

"I apparently have three days to travel to Belmoth Tower. There I will recieve further instructions. Do you think that's why he didn't inform me of the cause of the journey? Do you think he thought I might not show? How could anyone think such a thing! Of course I'd show! I take my duty seriously! If the world needs me, I will be there for it, no matter what! I will be who the world needs me to be, I will grow as required and I will-"

"Annie, you're ranting again," spoke her adoptive mother and Anwyn looked at her sheepishly. Her neck started to turn a similar colour to her pink hair. "Oh. But I mean it."

"I know," Olivia reassured her, taking a bite out of a scone as a pensive expression crept onto her face. After a while she spoke, "Belmoth Tower, huh? I don't know much about the tower, but I know where Belmoth is. It's far away, but should definitely be manageable within three days. To ensure you're there on time, I suggest you get a boater to take you along the river. Hopefully being the chosen one will grant you free passage, but if not, use some money."

Yeah, money. That could be an issue. Anwyn had a few coins collected that she'd found on the street - it was meant to be good luck - but in general her adoptive parents looked after her savings for her. At this point she wasn't sure how much she had, but she was convinced it wasn't that much.

"Knock on your father's door, I'll discuss what we'll give you to take on your journey with him. Plenty of money that's for sure... A blanket, some food, but we need to make sure your baggage is light. Hm... And then there's food for Nokia to take into account..."

"Nokia?"

Anwyn's face lit up, bright as a candle.

"Of course," Olivia replied, "he'd be lost without you. Besides, he's... He's more capable than you think. He's not quite a normal dog..."

"What do you mean?", said Anwyn, her expression twisting in both confusion and surprise. There had been this darkness to Olivia as she had said this and it was scaring her, so she started to ramble, "I mean, yeah, Nokia's pretty and has an abnormal love for meat but-"

Olivia Haaland simply raised a finger to her wide lips, "You'll find out in time. But take Nokia. You could do with some company."

< | ■ | >

Having important parents came with several perks, but them always being around to spend time with you was not one of them. Caitlyn was forced to wait three quarters of an hour until they finally showed their faces. Luckily her having been poisoned had shortened the wait. Both of them stood stiffly in the corner.

"Is there a problem with the staff?", Edison immediately asked, leaning on a cane, a "stylish" accesory Caitlyn had not seen him without in years. Some people would have rolled their eyes, but Caitlyn maintained a straight face, "From the little I've seen of them, they seem to be perfectly ordinary. What one would expect in this kind of establishment."

Edison nodded a nod so tiny that most people wouldn't have noticed, but Caitlyn acknowledged it. Wilma did too and since her husband hadn't commented on the matter yet, asked, "Then why did you call us here? Naturally we are concerned about you, but we would have come once work was done. I had to excuse myself from a meeting with the highest officials that could have paved the way for a paycheck big enough to cover your medical bills three fold."

Electrical silence hung in the air, it was as if all of them knew if they spoke, they'd be fried on the spot. Not a single hair twitched, they remained perfectly still, a family of stone, stoic, empty.

Eventually, Wilma Sequor sighed, "I'm sorry, Caitlyn. Your... Condition was quite a shock. If I'm a bit short with you, it's only because I've spent every hour since worrying. I haven't slept a wink in two days."

That's when realisation struck. It was hard to tell with dreams, but if it had been two days since she was poisoned, that meant that only one day remained until she had to be at Belmoth tower. Was that even possible?

Before Caitlyn could say anything, explain that she'd had a dream, that she was the chosen one, Edison sighed, "A shame about your hand but I guess it will do. Maybe it'll eventually heal. Hopefully, he won't mind."

In response, Caitlyn's stomach turned. Whatever this was, this couldn't be good. With a sense of dread, she spoke, "Who's he?"

Edison sighed and furrowed a brow, the look of a weary man. If one didn't know anything about the family, they would believe this could be because Caitlyn was a headstrong child who tired her father out permanently. In reality, she knew what she wanted, but was a good child and maintained a decent relationship with her parents.

"Caitlyn, before I say anything, I want you to keep an open mind, understood? I know this isn't what you'd planned - or we had planned, for that matter - but accepting this could open so many doors to you."

At this point he paused dramatically.

"Caitlyn... Timothy Crayver has asked for your hand in marriage and your mother and I think it would be rather wise if you accepted," Edison explained.

"What? Mr. Crayver? But... What about my future? My career? Besides, he's older and he doesn't care for me in the least! You heard what he said at the war meeting!"

Her father raised his hand to silence her. Wilma frowned from the corner, before trying to convince her of the viewpoint, "Naturally we anticipated that you'd react like this, hence we hope you'll take more time to consider. Keep in mind, I've managed to have both a fulfilling career and a functional marriage. Timothy Crayver is a powerful man, he is the military. We are their weapons, their armour. Think of the people, they'd love it."

"Maybe, but he and I are barely compatible. He would want a trophy wife to show off at soirées, a wife who'll converse politely and intelligently, but has no free will. My career would not benefit in the least and I'd be immensely unhappy," she argued back. When the Sequor family had a dispute, it was unlike your normally family feud. They all spoke rather monotonously, keeping their emotions at bay as much as possible. To an observer, it was all rather surreal.

"His mind could be changed. If not, well, how would you like to control one of the most powerful men in the country? Surely you wouldn't find it too hard to influence him, my child," spoke Wilma, a snake-like glint in her eyes. Edison frowned at the thought of his wife controlling him, before adding on, "Think of how much the family would benefit."

Caitlyn did not want to disappoint. Nor did she wish to spend the next fifty years at Timothy Crayver's side, watching his moustache grow grey while she just painted her face and bought elegant dresses that made the age gap painfully obvious. Luckily, the chosen one card seemed like it would be quite beneficial in this situation.

"I'm afraid that even if I decided to honour your decision, there are more urgent matters I have to attend to. Matters that would lift the family name even higher.

"Last night, I had a dream. It was entirely lucid and extremely special. Father, mother, I am the chosen one."

Caitlyn looked at her parents expectantly. Her mother briefly raised a drawn on eyebrow, her father's neck grew flushed. For one of the few times in her life, Caitlyn was afraid. Trying and failing to prevent her voice from quivering, she said, "Father...?"

He turned away from her, Wilma then followed his lead. Voice quaking and low, Mr. Sequor muttered, "So this is how low you would stoop. I see we've given you too much freedom and you believe you can get away with anything."

He turned his head to look her in the eye and no matter how much Caitlyn tried, she couldn't prevent tears from gathering as he said, "You don't lie to me, Caitlyn. Ever. I'll tell Mr. Crayver you were overjoyed. Once you've recovered and can think logically again, you can leave the hospital."

Only once before in her life had Caitlyn seen her father like this. Normally he was supportive, almost caring. But now the door closed and he left her, the sharp air still lingering. Part of Caitlyn simply wished to weep, weep until her soul seeped out of her body, something she had never done before. But she couldn't, even if she wanted to.

Caitlyn wiped away her tears and sat up straight. No matter what, she was getting her way out of here. She would fulfil her destiny.

< | ■ | >

A/N: I was talking to my mum on my way to dance and she was saying that if people have been complimenting my writing style when it's been more serious, maybe I shouldn't let my typical comedy slip in. Thing is, I don't think the writing style's changed that much in later chapters aside from the sheer amount of dialogue. Thing is, some chapters are bad for that, but others will be more descriptive again (Chapter 7). Also, leaving out my humour would be wrong because it's part of who I am. I think it's fine to incorporate humour, provided it's done at a reasonable time. After all, my sister and I appreciate Marvel's balance between comedy and action.

Anyway, can we appreciate Anwyn and Yaz's mothers? I'd have liked to include Anwyn's father, but it would have been kind of unnecessary.

I'm also not really making Yaz a Muslim because I am trying to seperate myself from Earth's religions. Nevertheless, she is the religious one of a bunch and a great person. I hope it's okay that I'm changing thing's a bit.

Caitlyn's really not having a good week. Do you think she'll make it in time?

What did you think of this chapter?

heartofhugs

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